


Subtly

by yallarewildqqmore



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ???? - Freeform, College AU, Falling In Love, Growing Romance, M/M, Swearing, alfred is studying how to be a therapist, arthur plays cello, awkward and comedic romance, cliche i know im ashamed, first fic ive published be nice, i should be writing an essay, im new to this, implications of GerIta, kinda love at first sight, minor descriptions of sex, yes there are cuss words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yallarewildqqmore/pseuds/yallarewildqqmore
Summary: At an art college in California, a British cello player meets a student studying therapy. They're slightly in love?





	1. You must be Alfred

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first (published) fic pls be nice i tried really hard  
> ty  
> ily

Independence College. An academy well known for the art program it provided, it stood as a series of buildings located in the Bay Area of California. It was an ideal place for many students to go to for a simple education, even if not an art major. People also enjoyed it simply for the fact that it, being in California, was located near water, nature, and even large cityscapes. It attracted people of all kinds. 

Alfred F. Jones was just a local college boy. He wasn’t the best at drawing, painting, music, acting- he just needed a decent college to be in. And hey- if Independence provides education, then why not, especially since he lived pretty close, down in South California.

He eventually got used to the college life- daily routines of coffee, work, classes. For a psychology major, hoping to be a counselor and therapist, he was not managing his own stress well. It didn’t help that other than in his regular classes, he was practically surrounded by skilled musicians and artists.

After a few months into the second semester, after already getting used to the passing faces that lingered around the campus at various times, Alfred noticed a new one.

He was blond with hair that fell down his face and forehead in strands around a chin length, and he was a few inches shorter than his own towering 6’1’’. Probably around 5’7’’. Actually, now that he thought about it, that seemed pretty short. He seemed like an average blond guy- average haircut, average thick brows, average resting bitch face, (not so) average height, average physique, average…

Eyes? No, those eyes are strikingly emerald…

“Okay. Enough awkward staring at this new student.” Alfred felt a strange mix of guilt and curiosity. “He’s probably just another nobody.”

\-------------------------------

Alfred continued walking back to the dorms, hoping to settle after a long day of researching human behavior. 

He entered his dorm, locked and closed the door, and immediately sprawled himself on his bed facing the ceiling. 

“Ahhh… I hope I’m not just wasting my future on this. What if I can’t make a difference in the world? What if I’m just wasting my efforts on this prestigious school on nothing…”

He slammed his face against the pillow. “UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”

After a moment of silence, he turned around and stared at his ceiling, somewhat calmer. Suddenly, a thump came outside his dorm.

Lazily, he walked towards his door and checked outside. 

It was the blond boy again, but this time on his butt in front of a wall, hastily collecting his things. 

Alfred just assumed he was too busy reading the paper in his hands, so he missed the turn and bumped into the corner. 

“Hey,” Alfred called to him. “Ya new around here?”

Hesitantly, he nodded in response. 

“Oh. Have fun then, I guess.” Alfred awkwardly half-smiled and shot him a peace sign, and the blond boy went on his way. He looked at Alfred’s dorm number, then kept going as he continued onto the one next to his. 

“Thank god. I mean, sure, I had a moment of ‘wait this guy’s pretty cute’ but I’m glad it didn’t turn into some big ‘oh now he’s my roommate’ cliche love story,” he thought to himself.

Alfred watched as the blond boy walked into the room next door, then was kicked out with a booming German voice yelling “GET OUT!”

Ah. Must’ve been that intimidating German photographer banging that Italian again. Of course, they forget to lock their door.

The blond boy, looking at his paper once again, returned to the other, taller, blond boy with an amused look on his face.

“Room F-339?”

Subtle… but was there an English accent?

“Yep.”

Oh god.

“Hi, I’m Arthur Kirkland. You must be Alfred F. Jones. I’m your roommate.”


	2. No 'H'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alfred finds out who the heck this guy is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this is so
> 
> the piece that Arthur plays: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCicM6i59_I
> 
> also btw so you understand  
> tighten the bow: self explanatory, it tightens the bow hairs so you can actually play with the bow  
> apply rosin: kind of like a gripping substance that you rub onto the bow so it can grip the strings and play better  
> ADCG: the strings on a cello  
> tuning: making the strings in tune  
> second /third position: different positions on your fingering hand, shift refers to moving from one position to another  
> string crossing: one string to another  
> idk if some of these are like self explanatory and i dont need to put them here lol  
> oh well  
> im sorry  
> ask me if you need help with all the other stuff  
> tyty ily

Alfred stared at him with a partly worried, partly amazed, and partly happy kind of look. 

“Well, Arthur … Kir.. Kirk..” Alfred stumbled over his words as he opened his door out wide.

“Kirkland.” Arthur shot him a sassy look that said, “It’s not that hard.”

Alfred half smiled at his initial sassiness. “Sorry Arrr-therrrr Kirck-laand, I would’ve just called you by your first name if I knew how sassy you were.” 

Turning around to enter the door, he heard a distinct “Hmph!” come from behind him.

“Make yourself at home, I guess.” 

“I don’t suppose I have much of a choice. I don’t know if you even understand the concept of ‘new roommate’.” Alfred sat down on the couch to continue listening to his little introduction. “Anyways, I suppose we ought to get friendly with each other.”

“Mm yeah. And obnoxiously glaring at me achieves that?”

“Ok you bloody American, first of all, I didn’t even glare at you. Secondly ‘Kirkland’ isn’t the most difficult thing to remember, let alone pronounce. Thirdly, fine. I apologize for my initial personality and behavior.”

“Alright. Apology accepted. So Arthur, just who the hell are you? To me, you’re just some random British guy who barged into my dorm. There’s gotta be more to you than just some blondie in a green hoodie.”

“Um well, I’m from Swansea in the UK, I’m turning 20 in a few months, and I moved here from the UK to continue my music career.” 

“Damn. I’m 19 too, but my birthday was like, I dunno, 4 months ago maybe? I’ve always been around here in California. I used to live in Los Angeles but wanted a place more suitable for me. I’m not an artist, but this school is still nice.”

“I see.” 

They both nodded, and silence ensued. Awkwardness haunted their minds until Alfred attempted to break it.

“Uh Arthur, take a seat. You can put your stuff over on the empty desk by the window. My desk is as messy as ever…” 

“What bunk should I sleep in?” 

“Whichever, top or bottom.”

“Bottom’s safer.” 

“All yours.” 

There was a slight pause before Arthur had a sudden realization.

“…Oh fuck. Uhh sorry, Alfred. I’ll be right back, I need to get something real quick.”

Without another word, Arthur bolted out the door. Alfred looked in the corner where Arthur left his two large, heavily packed bags. 

Still in shock, Alfred pondered upon the many things that would happen. “Shit… He’s fucking sassy… UGH. I have to live with this guy? Dear God, spare me. What if he’s super dumb and I have to clean up all of his shit every day? OR EVEN WORSE- what if he’s a rich pretentious asshole?”

Beginning to clean his and the empty desk, his thoughts raced. “Y’know, maybe this is good. Maybe we can bond over out mutual rudeness. Maybe after getting to know me, he’ll be nicer to me. After all, the first question I asked him, he didn’t even speak. Maybe I’m too intimidating…”

Alfred spent 20 minutes convincing himself it wasn’t as bad as it seemed until he started moving his bedsheets to the higher bunk. “Oh who am I kidding- The first time I spoke his name he gave me a dirty look!” He finished arranging his bed when he slammed face first into his pillow once again. “UGHHHHHHHHHHH,” he thought very loudly to himself again. “STUPID BRITISH LOW-KEY CUTIE.”

Once again, Arthur seemed to interrupt his internal “UGH” pillow inner monologue when he made a thump on the wall. This time it was intentional, as he knocked and asked, “Hello? Alfred? I’m back but my hands are quite full. Do you mind helping me out?”

“I’m comin’.”

To Alfred’s surprise, Arthur had the usual luggage with him, but something unusual lied in the back. He wore it on his back like a backpack with straps, and it had a big wide guitar-shaped body with a long neck sticking up. 

"Sorry. I forgot I left my large items in the school office."

“Is that a guitar?”

“Um. No.”

“Ok then what the hell is it? It sure is shaped like a guitar.”

“This is larger than a guitar.”

As Arthur lugged his items into the room, Alfred noticed that whatever was in there, it sure was important enough to Arthur to have a hard case around it. 

“Is it a musical instrument at least?”

“Well I DID tell you that I was pursuing a music career.” At this point, Arthur was getting irritated with the continuous questions.

“Wait. Does it have strings?”

Arthur set his luggage with the rest of his bags in the corner. As he very carefully took the straps on his back off, he replied, “Closer…”

“Violin!”

“No you twat, violins are much smaller. At least you got somewhere. It does have a bow.”

“Bow as in the stick thing?”

“…”

“…I’ll take that as a yes. Can you take it out and play it?”

“Um… Let me get used to this area first.” 

He set the case down and unlatched the sides. 

“Do you mind pulling up a chair for me?”

“Gotcha.” Alfred walked towards the kitchen area and brought back a tiny stool. 

“Ugh. That’s a little short but whatever. I’ll make it work.” 

Alfred sat near him as he saw him open up the case, revealing a beautiful stringed instrument, with a dark mahogany colored wood body. The scroll and pegs were lined with gold tips, and the instrument itself appeared to be sparkling. Arthur took out the bow and tightened and applied rosin to it, then sat down on the tiny stool. He set the bow carefully down and raised the body up, unscrewing the endpin to lengthen it to his preferred length. He carefully set it down and picked his bow up, then began to play the open strings. One at a time, A, D, G, C, making tuning adjustments until they seemed right.

Alfred, with absolutely no music experience, watched in confusion and amazement.

“Ok. I’m ready.” 

Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, appearing almost angelic under the orange sunset light. He steadily placed the bow down on the strings. 

Deciding to start off with something Alfred hopefully had at least heard once before in his life, he played the Prelude to Bach’s Cello Suite No.1.

The way he guided his bow across the strings and masterfully placed down each finger with ease, perfectly in tune caused Alfred to lose his breath. Goosebumps appeared on the skin of his arms and spine.

Arthur continued, shifting his fingers up to second, third position, moving his bow hand with grace. He bobbed his head at every beat, giving him a better sense of pulse and emotion. The weight of the bow on the strings, the smooth pure sound that imitated a voice- it was all so pure.

He closed his eyes as he played the last note with intensity and passion, keeping them closed until well after 5 seconds of releasing the note. He exhaled. 

“…Wow. Uhh… I… Uh….”

For the first time, Alfred saw Arthur slightly smile.

“Thanks.”

Arthur began putting the instrument away when he realized something he had forgotten.

“Oh yeah, by the way. It’s a cello. That’s C-E-L-L-O not C-H-E-L-L-O. No ‘H’.”

Of course, he would say it like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU READ IT TO THE END THANK YOU
> 
> i love you <3


	3. I think this is where I die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur think's he's falling in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow if you're here reading chapter 3 thank you

10:36 PM. They had been with each other for about 4 hours. Since playing the cello for Alfred, Arthur was able to get his laptop set up on the empty desk, and his clothes in the extra drawers that Alfred didn’t use.

With headphones on, Arthur listened to music and blankly stared at the wall.

Alfred’s mind may have been filled with questions, but little did he know, Arthur did the same. Except for some reason, Arthur’s thoughts were summarized into one word.

“Fuck,” Arthur said to himself. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. FUCK. FUCKING HELL. BLOODY FUCKING HELL.” He took such a deep breath in, that Alfred heard him from the couch.

“Fffffffffuuuuuuuck… What the hell am I supposed to do? I didn’t expect my roommate to be low-key handsome… UGH. He’s probably super smart like a science or math major. He looks like he works out too. Also, why the hell is he so tall?” As Arthur continued his internal crisis, complete with extreme facial expressions and vigorous hand gestures, he did not realize that Alfred was behind him on the couch, witnessing every little detail.

“I just have to get this concert over with. Then I can relax. Then life will be better and I won’t be as stressed as I am right now. I mean, who’s to blame? Him for being cute or me for being in a stressful situation? Ok… stop calling him cute, you’re going to like him more. UGH NO. Don’t say that- you’re basically admitting you like him. STOP. THERE IS NOTHING TO THIS GUY.”

Arthur wheeled himself backward out of the desk and spun himself around 180 degrees while throwing his hands up and sighing loudly. He froze once he saw Alfred staring at him, looking a bit worried. 

His face turned pink and became warm in a matter of seconds. He pressed his lips together, forming a thin line, and awkwardly stared back.

“….Can I help you… Arthur…?”

“Yes- NO. No… I’m fine… just having a moment. Y’know, being thrown into a different country is quite stressful.”

“Oh yeah. Why are you here anyways?”

“I already told you. Music.”

“Well yeah, but like… Why here? You could have gone somewhere else, like a college in England.”

“I’m being paid.”

“WHAT? YOU’RE BEING PAID TO GO TO SCHOOL?”

“No, calm down. The head music director here contacted me. They want me to perform a cello concerto in a concert here. I'm being paid to be the soloist. And since I'm already here, I start my student teaching at this school too.”

“Dang. I wouldn’t blame them for picking you. You’re extremely good at the cello.” 

“Well of course! I’ve been playing since I was about 4 and a half. Ah, the good ol’ days when I was so small, I used a 1/8th sized cello.”

“Wait and if you’re almost 20…. fuck dude, that’s a long time.”

“Yeah. I get bored sometimes, but I know I could never live without it.”

Alfred had succeeded in subduing the once-flustered Arthur. Now, they were having a smooth conversation as if excited to learn about each other.

“So, you’re gonna be a music teacher?”

“Um yeah. That’s the plan anyways. I’ll most likely be primarily an orchestra director, with maybe a few private lessons on the side. Band isn’t my thing. I know nothing about percussion and brass and woodwinds, but I'll probably still have to teach them. Of course, I’ll never pass up the opportunity for a good concert performance. I need all of the money I can get.”

“Being in college, I agree.”

“Enough about me though, what about you, Alfred?”

“Me?” Alfred squirmed uncomfortably. He hated talking about himself. “Uh… I’ll keep things short. It’s a little personal. I’m studing psychology to be a therapist.”

“Oh. If you don’t mind me asking, why?”

“Ah… It’s just… I had a rough past… Y’know. I don't want other people to have the same experiences I had.”

Arthur’s face seemed to drop a little bit. “…I’m sorry for asking.” 

“Nah, it’s cool. We barely met, and I don’t want you to think I’m some damaged freak juuust yet.” 

“It’s ok, I understand.” Arthur glanced over at the clock. 11:24 PM.

“But y’know… if the stress gets to you, you can always come talk to me. I’ve gotta start somewhere.” Alfred smiled at him, causing Arthur to blush slightly.

“You... You really are ok with that? Whenever I want to, I can just come talk to you if I’m stressed or just need someone.”

“Of course!”

To Arthur, Alfred’s offer, topped by his cheerful smile- it instantly lifted the mood. He smiled in response with a “Thanks. I was a bit worried coming here, with you and your sassiness and what-not, but… It was nice getting to know you. I don’t think living with you will be that bad.”

“Psh. Are you kidding me, Arthur? We’re gonna party every day ya little Brit!”

“…”

“Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be that weird. I forgot we literally just met and I have to be ‘normal’.”

Arthur laughed at him and replied, “Ok Mr. Giant Yank, but later. I’ve got a busy week and have no time to get high. In fact, I’ve got to get low. Specifically on the bed.”

“…What…”

“Get it? You lay down on the bed to sleep, and I’m on the bottom bunk… and it's like…”

“ ‘Get high’,” Arthur raised his right hand. 

“And me ‘getting low’,” He lowered his left hand to show the height difference between the two.

“…”

“…OK LOOK- I'm awkward and weird too, we even now?”

Alfred’s realization burst him into a flurry of laughter and snorts, causing Arthur to laugh along with him. 

Breathless, he replied “Yeah… We’re DEFINITELY even now.”

“Alright. I’m heading to bed.”

“Agreed.”

\------------------------------

Arthur rustled into the bed as Alfred turned the light off and climbed up on top.

“Say… Alfred?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry for being initially sassy. I was just tense. I accidentally walked in on someone having sex, I’m in a new country... A new school… It’s… an experience. I’ll give you that.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry too, I was pretty rude.”

“Alright. I guess it’s only fair if we were both rude.”

“Don’t sweat it, Arthur. We’re getting along pretty well, and like I said- If you need someone to talk to, you know where I am.”

Under the safety of darkness, Arthur let himself tear up a little bit.

“Thanks, Alfred.”

Arthur did not expect this type of kindness from someone he had just met.

“Fuck,” he thought to himself again. “He’s a real sweetheart. I suppose falling in lov- What the fuck me? Back off! It’s literally been a few hours. You can’t fall in love this quickly!”

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Arthur Kirkland.”

His heart was about to beat out of his chest right then and there. He said his surname, and pronounced it correctly too.

“Night, Alfred.”

“Ha,” Arthur nervously laughed in his own head. “More like ‘I think I’m falling for you in this typical I’m-forced-to-be-your-roommate-in-college cliche scenario, Alfred. F Jones’.”

“I think this is where I die.” 

Knowing that Alfred F. Jones would subtly take over his life for god knows how long, Arthur fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you've made it 3 chapters in i cant believe it 
> 
> you're amazing


	4. Forgetting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's introduction into the first day of school at Independence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh im sorry this took so long ive just been stuck and busy lol 
> 
> but as always i write when ive got something better to do

The first morning together. A foggy Wednesday. 

Arthur got up first, being more organized and on top of things. He stood up, squinting from the gray light that shone through the window, and looked at himself in the mirror on his desk. His hair was the usual scattered, eyes slightly glazed over, and mouth formed in a resting pout. No one usually wakes up happy, after all. 

Based on how serene Alfred looked, Arthur seemed like he had enough time to get ready before he woke up. Starting with his face, he trotted over to the bathroom to wash it and make him wake up. Sitting back at his desk, in front of his mirror, he grabbed his big clip to move all of the hair in front of his forehead up. He begrudgingly grabbed tweezers and began to pluck excess hairs off of his thick eyebrows. 

“Dear god, why have you forsaken me with abnormal eyebrows. I swear if Alfred sees me doing this…”

Arthur continued mumbling to himself, but Alfred wasn’t as deep of a sleeper as he thought.

“If that Yank sees me doing this… He’ll surely make fun of me. Ugh. I though I embarrassed myself enough yesterday.”

“Yep. And you still are.”

“Alf-! FUCK! Fu… I- Uhh- I- I- I- I-…”

“Nah, don’t mind me, I’m just a Yank. And don't sweat it, I’ve looked worse.”

“Eeehh… I guess… Just… Get used to me with my hair up and my hideously thick eyebrows.”

“It's ok Brit, ya still look cute.” 

Alfred had absolutely no filter when he was tired. Right now was no exception. He could go on and on talking about some random topic.

Arthur, on the other hand, was speechless. His face was burning, and he turned around and finished getting ready.

Eventually, Alfred fell back asleep because of how quiet Arthur was at the moment. 

He quickly threw on the closest clothes he could find. A blue plaid button-up, a belt, black pants, some dress shoes, and his brown coat. It looked like it was going to rain. 

“Bye Alfred I’m going now-” Arthur panicked and rushed to get his things in his backpack, his backpack on himself, and him and his cello out the door.

He shut the door and hurried down to the principal’s office.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, ALFRED F. JONES????” 

“UGH. He doesn’t even fucking like me. He’s just teasing me. Just being nice to me. I HATE AMERICAN FUCK BOYS.”

As he made his way into the principal’s office, he calmed down a little. 

The woman at the front desk called out to him, asking, “Hello! Why are you here at the office today?”

“I’m... ah... Supposed to meet with the principal right now.” 

“Oh! Okay, let me check…” She peered down at her schedule. “…Arthur Kirkland?”

“Yes.”

She dialed in some numbers into her desk phone and said into it, “Hello? Mr. Bonnefoy, Arthur is here… Okay… Okay… Yes, he’ll be with you shortly.”

She hung up and told Arthur, “You can go, the second door in the hallway, to your right.” 

“All right. Thank you.”

As he entered the room, he saw two men surrounding the desk, welcoming him to sit down with him. They took his hands and shook them, filling the room with joyous laughter.

“Ah, yes! The man himself, Arthur Kirkland! I am Roderich Edelstein, head music director here at Independence Academy, and this is our principal.”

“Francis Bonnefoy. You know, when Roderich, sorry, Mr. Edelstein shared your story with me, he begged me to allow you into Independence. I, of course, agreed. There is no way a young man with such a heartbreaking story, who is also was a prodigy at age 4- there is no way I would pass this up.” 

“Yes, thank you for allowing me to attend this academy, Mr. Bonnefoy. And thank you for wanting me to perform with you, Mr. Edelstein.” 

“No, thank you for agreeing!” Mr. Bonnefoy cheerfully stated. “I hope you’ve been settling well. I know, America, and California, all very new. But I suppose you have contact, transportation, and of course housing in our dorm rooms down, right?” 

“Yes, thank you for providing it.” 

“And forcing me into a room with Alfred,” he sarcastically thought to himself.

“No need to be so polite, Arthur. With your level of playing, you deserve as much authority as us.” Mr. Bonnefoy glanced over at Mr. Edelstein, who was nodding in agreement. 

“Anywhoo, my orchestral class is about to begin soon. I have it that you’re observing all of my classes today, no?”

“Yes, that’s correct. And just to clarify, the Myaskovsky concerto practices are today, Saturday, and the Thursday and Friday before the concert, correct?”

“Yes! Now come, I’ve got to introduce you to my students.”

As they were getting up to leave, Arthur grabbed his things and said goodbye and thank you to Mr. Bonnefoy. 

\------

Alfred sat alone in his bed. 

“I called him cute.” 

He stared off into the room blankly, feeling tired and wholly dead inside.

“Well, better not dwell on it. It’s not like I can even get a prestigious musician boyfriend.” 

Surprisingly, over the next couple of days, he didn’t think much of it. 

\--------

Arthur got introduced to the young musicians of Mr. Edelstein’s ensembles. 

They all were amazed as he introduced himself. Whispers spread of “He’s British!”, and even after he played a little excerpt on the cello, more whispers spread. This time, the overall mood seemed to be “WOW! He’s so good!”

After one of the orchestral classes, a violist, short and blond, almost resembling Arthur but younger and American, went up to Arthur and exclaimed “Wow Mr. Kirkland! You’re really good. I’m soooooo glad you’re our student teacher this year. I’m also in the large ensemble, so I can’t wait to hear you play that Myaskovsky cello concerto! You have an amazing sound quality.”

Arthur was packing his things while subtly smiling at the student. “Thank you. You guys as an ensemble are quite impressive too. Praise me all you want but you guys are performers just as much as me.”

“You know, Mr. Kirkland…”

“Yes?”

“When you play, it’s so beautiful. You play… so romantically… It sounds like you’re in love!”

Arthur had been so overwhelmed by students that he had forgotten all about Alfred. But it was this student’s comment that made him suddenly remember, “Oh right. I’ve got a crush on an idiot.”

He pulled his head back in slight shock and his face flushed. “Oh… Thank you… That’s a unique compliment, but you know what, I’ll take it.”

The student laughed and walked away. “Thanks for the chat, Mr. Kirkland!”

“Oh yeah. Spread the word, just call me Arthur. I’m still the same age as you guys!”

The remaining students still in the room all laughed along. Arthur felt in his element, surrounded by people with the same passion as him. 

His life didn’t seem so bad for a moment. 

In fact, just like Alfred, he seemed to forget he was in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank for read  
> i love you  
> also ps im sorry this felt really bad and rushed even though it took me longer than expected


	5. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you know that feeling when you want something you can't have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE

Arthur and Alfred were past infatuation. 

No more cliche “being lost in each other’s personality”. 

Just simple living conversations. A text here and there of “did you turn the light off?”. A glance at the computer- “Whatcha workin’ on?”. 

No more getting lost in conversations, like that first day. 

Just getting lost in music. 

Lost in school work.

A lost love, trapped in time. 

At least they still talked while in the same room. The dorm would just usually be Arthur practicing across the room, while Alfred furiously typed away on his computer.

Arthur always played the same thing, a melancholically beautiful melody, with an exciting fast passage in the middle. He was practicing it any chance he could, and when he couldn’t, he was listening to a recording of it. 

Alfred was always on his computer typing what seemed to be a very important document. 

“Ok Alfred, I’ve ben curious for a while now. What are you typing?”

“Oh… uh… It’s a… uh… It’s a long story.”

Arthur placed his cello down. “Go ahead. I need a mental break. I’m losing focus.” 

“Dude, that sounds intense.” 

“Trust me- when it’s all you hear and all you know… Oh boy. That concert this Saturday is going to be intense.”

“Ok wait. I’ll tell you what I’m working on if you show me what you’ve been playing.” 

“Ok, but you should see it live. Support a young shy Brit in a new country, wouldya?” 

“Deal! I know it's going to be great, and I would DEFINITELY pay to get my hands off this paper. So… what are ya playin’?”

“Um well, the orchestra will be playing a couple pieces, and at the end it’s going to be me with the solo.”

“I am definitely a classical music dummy. But good thing you’re here, right Artie?”

“… It’s still Arthur,” he said quietly to himself. Yet unlike their first encounter, he wasn’t angry. It felt unusually strange.

“Oh yeah you’re right!” 

Alfred giggled to himself then turned towards his desk as his phone got a call. 

“Whoa, what? Who even wants to be calling me?” 

Annoyed, he answered his phone call. In a matter of seconds and mumbling, his face lit up with excitement.

“Oh hey Kiku! Oh my god, yes! Yes, you saved me ahhhh… Yeah!… Yeah, sure! Of course! What time?… OK yeah, got it. Alright I’m gonna get ready now. Thanks for inviting me!”

He set his phone down and turned to Arthur. 

“Alright, Arthur, I’m gonna go hang out with some buddies. Y’know, the good ol’ catching up.”

To Arthur, this broke his heart a little bit. That little bit of feeling special with a little nickname was suddenly gone. He wasn’t Artie, he was just the boring Arthur again. 

And he wasn’t as special as he thought he was. Of course, there was always someone else Alfred wanted to be with. 

Who wants to be with some boring cello player anyway? 

“Oh. I hope you have fun with that. Seems like it’ll be a good night with friends.” 

He mustered up a small fake smile to him, and remembered that he doesn’t have as much as Alfred. 

Arthur’s gently picked his cello back up and continued playing. Suddenly the music had more emotion. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t play with emotion before, it just suddenly bursted out.

Notes poured out like a gray cloud rolling in to rain on what was once a beautiful day. 

With the long notes and intense vibrato, he hope that there would be a small chance Alfred would still give him the attention he suddenly needed.

“Alright, I’m heading out now Arthur. Have fun practicing!”

Before Arthur could say anything in response, the door shut.

“Bye Alfred. Thanks for not telling me about your paper like you said you would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its short imjust AAAAAa losing inspiration andlike uHHHGGHH summer hw also myspacebar is broken lol which is why sometimes you get wordsthatarelikethis 
> 
> ANYWAYS TY FOR READING I STILL LOVE YOU


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